night’s sleep. He fetched a strong cup of tea, then sat down to a stack of notes. On top was one from Samantha—0800: Please call me when you get in, S Khama.
The note felt formal, which made Kubu realize that he was already thinking of “S. Khama” as Samantha. He reflected for a moment. That’s a good sign, he thought. If that’s how I’m thinking of her, she must be doing a good job.
He phoned her and asked that she come to his office in fifteen minutes. He still needed to attend to the other notes.
“I’VE TWO THINGS TO report,” Samantha said as she settled in one of the chairs in Kubu’s office. “Last night I went to see Marumo’s girlfriend. She says that he always had the briefcase with him. He never even left it in the car if he went into a restaurant or meeting. She swears he would’ve had it when he arrived home.”
“And you checked with the woman down the road, who saw the man running?”
“Yes. She thought he might’ve been carrying something, but she wasn’t sure. I don’t think we learned anything from her.”
“And the police who responded to the call?”
“I spoke to them, too. None of them remember seeing it.”
“I didn’t see it, either,” Kubu said, “but I arrived a bit later. What about the doctor?”
“He says the same thing. He didn’t see it. He says whoever murdered Marumo must have taken it.”
“Did you check with the Freedom Party?”
“Yes, I went there last night. There were still people working. They confirmed that he always had the briefcase and wouldn’t have left without it. They gave me several photos with him holding it. It’s nothing special and didn’t have any distinctive markings. I circulated one of the photos to all the police stations and rubbish disposal people.”
“Did the Freedom Party people say what was in the briefcase?”
“They said the most important was the party’s plan for the next election. If someone in another party got hold of it, it could really hurt their efforts. They claimed that the murder and theft of the briefcase were both politically motivated, probably by the BDP.”
“Why would the BDP do such a thing?”
“They say the BDP is running scared after the by-election and will do anything to stop the Freedom Party.”
Kubu felt depressed. “And I suppose Zanele and her crew found nothing, either?”
“Well, they didn’t find the briefcase,” Samantha said, glancing at Kubu, who leaned back in his chair. “It’s starting to sound like a politically motivated murder.”
“That’s the last thing we need,” Kubu groaned, shaking his head.
“I also checked that the APB went out last night,” Samantha continued. “The Daily News will have a short article in today’s paper, but there won’t be a photo. And some of the TV stations will broadcast a request this morning for the public to keep their eyes open for a Witness Maleng. I sent them all a copy of the picture on his driver’s license. Not very good, but better than nothing.”
“Excellent,” Kubu responded. “We’ll go and see if we can find the witch doctor he consulted, but I’ve no idea whether she’ll be there. We’ll just have to take our chances.”
“I wouldn’t know how to contact a witch doctor.” Samantha frowned. “Would you?”
“No. But I’m sure if you wanted one, all you’d have to do is put out the word and you’d get several phone calls.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it? They’re all phonies, yet they’re such a big part of our culture. People actually believe in them. In this day and age.” She shook her head. “I would’ve thought we knew better today.”
“As long as people believe in them, they’ll be around—whether we think of them as charlatans or not.” Kubu stood up. “Let’s go and meet one.”
FOLLOWING BIG MAMA’S SCRIBBLED directions, Kubu negotiated his Land Rover through the dusty streets until they found the witch doctor’s house.
“She can’t be doing very well,” Kubu said wryly, as he looked at the nondescript structure. “I wonder if that’s her receptionist.” He pointed at an old man who was sitting outside the house on a milk crate.
“Dumela, rra,” Kubu said. “We are looking for Mma Gondo.”
The old man slowly stood up. Kubu thought he could hear the man’s knees creaking.
“She is not available now. Only by appointment. Who wants to consult her? And for what purpose?”
Kubu pulled out his police badge. “If she’s here, I need to see her now.”
The old man squinted at the badge.
“She is very busy, but I will see